


I've Got This Friend

by PrettiestStar17



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-29
Updated: 2018-03-29
Packaged: 2019-04-14 10:42:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14134419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrettiestStar17/pseuds/PrettiestStar17
Summary: Hermione Granger is a skilled pediatric healer. She's also a workaholic who hasn't been out on a date in two years. Draco Malfoy, her best friend and co-worker, decides she needs to change that and sets Hermione up on a blind date.





	I've Got This Friend

There was something calming about the hospital cantina. There were no alarms going off, no one yelling or rushing between rooms. The loudest sound was silverware and dishes clinking as they were toted away to be washed. The food was usually questionable, but the atmosphere was perfect for shaking off morning stresses. During her breaks from the pediatric wing , Hermione often turned down invites to grab a quick bite at the local pub and would instead head to the cantina to catch up on her reading.

Today was no different. Ignoring her sandwich and lemonade, Hermione let herself get lost in reading up on St. Mungo’s latest policy changes.

“Do you ever take your nose out of those bloody books?”

Hermione‘s lips twitched, but her eyes never left the words on the page. There was no mistaking the voice of her best friend and colleague.

“Oh, they actually let you have lunch today,” Hermione said, still not looking up from her book. “I was starting to think A&E was a black hole, with no possibility of escape.”

Finally looking up, she was met by his childish grin and Hermione couldn’t help but allow a matching one to spread across her face. It was rare that their lunch breaks coincided, so she was happy to push her book aside for a bit. She might actually eat something for a change.

“Your chicken sandwich has gone cold,” he said, nodding at her plate.

Hermione smirked and shook her head. “It’s supposed to be cold.”

“Oh, well, my statement is still correct then, isn’t it?”

“Heaven forbid that Malfoy the Great is ever wrong about anything,” she teased, popping a crisp into her mouth.

“Finally, someone gets it!” he said, letting out a relieved sigh.

Hermione rolled her eyes and bit into her sandwich. If a witch could count on one thing, it was that nobody would ever be more besotted with Draco Malfoy than Draco Malfoy.

“One of your patients, from yesterday, is on my rounds today,” Hermione said between bites. “She seems quite smitten with you. I’ve heard the name Healer Malfoy no less than twenty times this morning.”

“All the young witches are smitten with me. You’ll have to be more specific on which one it is,” Draco said, stirring crackers into his soup.

“A cutie named Tabitha has been singing your praises.”

Draco chuckled and nodded. “She is pretty adorable. Gave her mum and dad a right scare. How’s she doing?”

“Great. She should be cleared to head home tomorrow. All her hives are gone and she’s able to speak normally again. I’m sure she’d be tickled pink if you stopped by her room to ‘check in’.”

“I’ll swing by sometime this afternoon,” he replied with a grin. “So what tome has captured your attention now?”

Hermione gave him a disbelieving stare before holding up the book and saying, “It’s the updated version of the hospital’s codes and policies. You haven’t read it yet?”

“Why? You’ll tell me everything when you’re done with it anyway,” Draco quipped.

Hermione rolled her eyes and tossed a crisp at him. He laughed and ate it quickly before she could grab it back. “It’s almost too easy now. Yes, I have read a little bit of it. Some of us have lives outside of the hospital, though.”

“Hmm, what’s that like?”

“Nice. You should look into it sometime.” Draco slurped a few spoonfuls of soup and Hermione glared at him.

Cringing at the crude sound, Hermione huffed, “Must you?”

“How else am I going to get you to make that angry face I love so much?”

“Prat,” Hermione muttered.

“So, what exciting plans do you have for the weekend?” Draco asked.

“I--” Hermione started.  
“Picked up an extra shift,” Draco finished.

“If you already know what I’m going to say, why do you even ask?”

“I’m hoping one of these days I’ll ask and you’ll tell me something different - you’re taking a vacation, going out to a club, have a hot date.”

“Right, hot date,” Hermione scoffed. “My version of a hot date is a ward of feverish children.”

Draco sighed and shook his head. “Granger, please go out and meet some people in the real world. I don’t want to see you end up an old spinster-witch, living with a horde of stray cats.”

“I get out! My last date wasn’t that long ago.”

“Oh? When was the last time you went out with a man?”

Hermione went to answer and then stopped. She cursed herself for having to actually search her brain for this information. If someone asked for the remedy to Dragon Scale Rash, she’d be able to spout out care instructions immediately. But facts on her social life? That was treading into murky territory.

“That guy,” she finally said. “You know, the one I met at the coffee shop. Brad? Brett?”

“Brendon.”

“Yeah, him. We went out a few times, a couple months ago.”

“You went out with him twice, two years ago,” Draco corrected.

“How do you remember the details better than I do?”

“Because I get out of this gods forsaken prison, where time seems to stand still,” Draco laughed. His smile faded as his eyes met Hermione’s crestfallen face. His face softened as he apologized. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be harsh. Seriously, is there _any_ guy you fancy?”

Hermione tried hard to hold back her blush. ‘ _Only the one sitting across from me_ ,’ she thought. But she would never tell him that. They had formed such a wonderful friendship over the past eight years and she didn’t want to ruin that by trying to take things further. Besides, Draco Malfoy had women tripping over each other, trying to be the next in line for his affection. He had never looked twice at Hermione in that way.

Other than that, there wasn’t any other guy she particularly cared for. In an attempt to not look pathetic, she blurted out the most recent name she had heard all the other females swooning over.

“Well, yeah, there’s Matt.”

Draco’s face contorted to disgust. “Matt? That pain potion peddling pretty boy?”

“Lovely alliteration,” Hermione teased. “He’s not that bad.”

“Are you serious? He’s a prick! He’s constantly down in A&E, pushing new pain potions on patients. I’m pretty sure he gets some kind of under the table kickback from a couple different companies. I just can’t prove it.” Draco gritted his teeth and tossed his spoon into the empty bowl. “No, stay away from him.”

“It’s not like I was going to go ask him out right this instant. He’s just someone that caught my eye,” Hermione lied.

Draco leaned back in his seat and studied Hermione for what felt like an inordinate amount of time. Hermione started to grow anxious under his scrutiny. She was about to tell him off for it when he leaned forward and spoke again.

“Let me set you up with someone.”

“What? No! I don’t do blind dates,” Hermione protested.

“Granger, you don’t do dates period. Come on! I’ve got this friend. I think you’d like him,” Draco insisted.

“Who? What friend?”

“Never you mind that detail. Don’t you trust me?” he persisted.

“With dating? I’m not sure…What’s he like?” Hermione asked tentatively.

“Very good looking--”

“Why would you think looks are at the top of my list?” Hermione interrupted.

“Fair point. You did date Weasley for how long?”

Hermione crossed her arms and gave Draco a disapproving look. Draco let out a comforting chuckle and Hermione found it hard to keep up her stern demeanor.

“Okay, why don’t you tell me what your perfect guy is like?” Draco encouraged, crossing his own arms and leaning back in his chair.

Hermione relaxed her arms and started ticking off her must-haves in a partner. “First, he needs to have a natural sense of humor. Not class clown humor. You know, the kind that seems to be trying too hard. But a witty and an unexpected humor, that makes me feel at ease. He should also be ambitious, wanting to better himself and learn more about the world. On that same note, someone that I can have an intelligent conversation with.”

“Intelligent conversation? Really, how did you stay with Weasley for so long?” Draco laughed and dodged the wadded up napkin Hermione chucked at him. “I kid, I kid! Ron and I are cool. Some old habits just die hard.” He sat back up and his laughter faded. “That’s a respectable list and I promise this guy hits all the marks. I’ll talk you up to him and help set it all up. The only thing you have to do is say yes.”

Hermione chewed her bottom lip in contemplation. Honestly, the thought of a date terrified her. She hadn’t been on one in so long and to agree to one with a total stranger upped the ante. What would he be expecting of her? There was every chance he’d take one look and realize how pathetic she was and just leave. Draco seemed so hell-bent on setting her up, though, and she didn’t want her best friend to think she didn’t trust him. She finally sighed and nodded her approval. One date couldn’t be as bad as she was picturing. Plus, it might have the added bonus of getting her to not think inappropriate thoughts about Draco for an evening.

“Excellent! I think you two will really hit it off,” Draco said, with a satisfied smile.

“We’ll see,” Hermione replied, standing up and shrugging on her white Healer coat.

“Just don’t pick up any extra shifts for next weekend. I know it will be tough, but keep your schedule open.”

Hermione rolled her eyes and gave him a wave. “Get back to work, Malfoy.” She gave him a smile before tossing her trash in the bin and returning to the pediatric wing of St. Mungo’s.

A well respected pediatric healer and Draco Malfoy’s best friend were not what she expected to become after she left Hogwarts. If she let her mind wander, those facts still seemed slightly absurd to her, even after all these years later.

* * *

 

Once the dust settled after Harry and Voldemort’s final battle, Hermione had chosen to go back to Hogwarts and have a proper last year. Only ten others from her year chose to do the same, with Draco Malfoy being the only returning Slytherin.

She can vividly remember that final first day of classes. She sat at a desk with Ginny Weasley and Lavender Brown, anxiously awaiting Professor McGonagall's arrival. Just before the bell rang, Draco entered the classroom. The usual cockiness that accompanied his walk was gone. His manner was significantly subdued as he quickly and quietly made his way to the front of the class, purposefully avoiding the stares and whispers that followed him.

During each and every class, Draco sat at the front, diligently taking notes, yet never saying a word. At meals, the students were encouraged to sit wherever they pleased and mingle with the other houses. Draco remained at the Slytherin table, positioning himself at a far corner, away from everyone else. Hermione would catch herself watching him eat and found that the hatred she always harbored for the blonde boy had fizzled into pity for the man she now saw. It couldn’t have been an easy decision for him to come back, and to face it alone had to make the ordeal even harder. She couldn’t imagine Crabbe and Goyle were a great source of support, but they at least provided some sense of companionship. Now, even they were gone.

If any of it bothered Draco, he didn’t let on. He attended each and every class, without fail, and earned top marks on everything. Any praise or acknowledgement of this resulted in nothing more than a cursory nod from him.

Hermione never heard Draco speak a word until they’d all returned from the Christmas holiday. The seventh years had all switched to N.E.W.T. mode and just about every evening, in the library, there were several tables packed with studying students.

One particularly cold, January evening, Hermione was bundled up in several sweaters, trying to stave off the drafts as she reviewed fifth year Charms notes. With a jar of Bluebell Flames in her lap, she lost herself in studying and didn’t notice the other students leaving. A sudden expletive, echoing off the walls, jolted her from her trance, and somewhere Madam Pince let out a sharp shush.

Hermione looked up and saw that every table was empty except hers. Across and a few seats down, Draco Malfoy sat with his hands in his hair and was shooting frustrated glares at a crystal wine goblet. Instinctively, Hermione asked, “Need some help?” before realizing who she was offering assistance to.

Draco seemed startled as he looked up and stared at her. Hermione held her breath as she waited for what she was certain would be a snarky response. It felt as though she sat there forever as Draco silently appraised her. Just when she thought he might be trying to intimidate her into minding her own business, he nodded and said, “Sorry. Yes, please,” and waved her towards him.

Slowly, Hermione moved down the table and took the seat directly in front of him. Draco let his hands drop from his hair and started shuffling through a pile of parchments.

“Nott sent me all his notes from the past years and I’m starting to understand why McGonagall saddled him with so many detentions and extra homework,” he started to explain. He pushed a sheet towards her and pointed out the spell he had been attempting.

“Oh, that’s from third year,” Hermione said, deciphering the wand movements in Theo Nott’s scribbles. “He’s missed a few key steps.” She summoned her overstuffed school bag and started sifting through her perfectly filed parchments.

Draco peeked across, into her bag, and raised his eyebrows. “Have you categorized _every_ note from the last seven years?”

“Of course,” Hermione answered, pulling out Transfiguration notes from December of their third year. She passed them across the table. “This should be much clearer.”

Draco studied the parchment for a few moments before setting it down and picking up his wand. After the first try, he sat in front of a perfectly transfigured lamp.

“Thank you,” he said, tapping the lamp and returning it to its goblet state. He handed Hermione’s notes back to her and then turned his attention to Theo’s. “I can’t believe I paid that slimy git twenty galleons for these worthless, so-called notes.”

Before Hermione could reply, Draco had touched his wand to the stack of parchments and set them ablaze. Hermione’s eyes went wide and she opened her mouth to say something, but no words came out. He put out the flames before they damaged the table, but it was already too late. Madam Pince came out of nowhere, pointing her clawed fingers at them and screeching about being irresponsible around sacred, irreplaceable fountains of knowledge.

Hermione and Draco didn’t stick around to hear her entire tirade. They quickly packed up their supplies and sprinted from the library before the librarian could give them a lifetime ban. The two darted down corridors and up two floors, throwing looks over their shoulders. She silently prayed they weren’t being followed by Madam Pince, or that she hadn’t called in Filch for reinforcement.

As they turned a corner, Hermione recognized one of the secret shortcuts Ron and Harry had constantly employed when they were running late for class. Hermione grabbed Draco’s sleeve and pulled him into the passageway behind her. They leaned against opposite walls, breathing hard as they tried to catch their breath. Hermione reached into her bag and pulled out an old, folded up sheet of parchment.

Touching her wand to the parchment, she muttered, “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.”

Draco stared in amazement as lines and words slowly spread across the length of parchment, creating a perfect map of the castle.

“Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs are proud to present _The Marauder’s Map_. What the bloody hell does that mean?” Draco asked, as little dots started roaming the map. “Are those actually the people in the castle?”

“Yes, I’m trying to find Filch and that blasted cat,” Hermione answered, not looking up from the map. “I’d prefer to avoid Peeves too, if possible,” she said offhandedly.

“Where did you get this?”

“It’s Harry’s. He lent it to me for the year.”

“How did Potter get his hands on it?”

Hermione let out a sigh. “You ask a lot of questions,” she said before launching into a brief explanation of the map.

“Look! Filch is in the Potions classroom.” Draco pointed out the caretaker’s dot.

“And Peeves appears to be terrorizing the elves in the kitchens,” Hermione said, jabbing her finger at the poltergeist’s dot, zooming around the perimeter of the kitchen square. “If you follow this passageway all the way down, it’ll take you out in the front entryway. From there, take the back route to your dorm and you’ll avoid the Potions classroom altogether.”

“What about you? Are you able to get back to your dormitory unnoticed?”

“Gryffindor’s is right down this hall and around the corner. I don’t have to go too far.”

“Oh, okay.” Draco looked down at the map and said, “Well, it looks like your coast is clear.” He looked back up at Hermione and shuffled back, awkwardly. “Thank you, for all the help tonight. In and out of the library,” he said with a hesitant laugh.

“You’re welcome.” Hermione touched her wand to the map and declared, “Mischief managed,” making sure it was completely blank before folding it up and stuffing it back in her bag. She nodded at Draco and said, “Have a good night.”

As she turned to leave the passage, Draco called out to her, “Think I could borrow your notes again sometime?”

Hermione turned back and smiled at him. “Would you like to study together?”

Draco looked slightly taken aback at her suggestion and her smile faded. She shook her head and turned back to the exit before he could make a snide comment that ended in her being labeled a mudblood.

“No, please wait!” Draco ran ahead, blocking her way out. “I’m sorry. I’m not used to people actually wanting to help me, without being forced or having some ulterior motive.” His lips curled in disgust, and, even in the shadows, Hermione could see the hurt in his steely eyes. It couldn’t have been easy going through life feeling as you’ve been nothing more than a pawn in someone else’s game.

“If you don’t completely hate me, and I would not be surprised if you do, then yes, I would like to study together,” he quietly admitted.

“I don’t hate you, Draco,” Hermione said, softly, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze. She could feel his muscles loosen as he let out a breath. “Let's give Madam Pince a few days to calm down and we’ll plan a session.”

That was the first time she ever saw Draco Malfoy truly smile.

“Thank you,” he said once more, before disappearing down the dark passageway.

As pleased as Hermione was about her evening, Ginny Weasley was just as annoyed about it.

“Why would you offer to help that prat? I say let him struggle and face the consequences,” the redhead spat at breakfast the next morning.

“Gin…”

“Are you going to tell Ron about it? I wouldn’t if I were you, or he’ll have kittens.”

“You know who you sound like right now, don’t you?”

“Don’t you dare, Hermione Jean Granger!”

Hermione smiled at successfully quelling her friend’s rant. Nothing cut to Ginny’s core quicker than comparing her to her mother.

“Of course I’m going to tell Ron about it. There’s nothing to keep secret,” Hermione reassured. “I’m perfectly happy putting the past behind us and giving the deserving people a second chance.”

“And the Malfoys are deserving people?” Ginny asked warily.

“I think Draco is,” Hermione answered, sneaking a glance at the end of the Slytherin table.

That was the start of the unexpected friendship between Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy. As Ginny had predicted, her boyfriend was not overjoyed about her new friend, but Ron kept his complaining to a minimum. He even agreed to Hermione’s suggestion of inviting Draco to lunch on her final Hogsmeade weekend. It took a few more awkward meetings, but the two eventually warmed up to each other. They were never really friends, but civil enough that they could carry on a conversation and not have it end in threats.

After Hogwarts, Draco surprised Hermione again by appearing in her class on the first day of her Healer training. He had never shown the slightest interest in a medical career, but apparently Lucius had insisted that Draco start learning the ropes in order to take over the family business. In true Malfoy stubbornness, Draco told his father exactly what he thought of the family legacy and enrolled the following day for medical school.

The two grew even closer as they went through training together. Many nights turned into early mornings as they made their way through preparing for exams, working residencies, and trying to hold down a social life between it all. Hermione kept Draco level headed when his father’s passive aggressive digs about his new friends and ambitions pushed him to the edge. Draco was her voice of reason when her quick temper collided with Ron’s. Eventually, he was her shoulder to cry on when she and Ron broke up.

Their paths finally split when Hermione chose to pursue Pediatric Healing and Draco went on to become an Emergency Healing Specialist. By that time, though, Draco had become one of  her closest friends and Hermione couldn’t remember there being a day that she didn’t talk to him, even if it was just a quick five minute exchange in the hallway.

Hermione wasn’t quite sure when her feelings for Draco crossed over from friendship, but she remembered the moment the realization had hit her.

They had been at lunch and he was telling her about a particularly stubborn patient that had come in that morning. The man had been bit several days earlier by a Crup and the bite appeared to now be infected. He needed to be admitted, but fought it tooth and nail, claiming his wife was crazy and he was perfectly fine to go home. Draco had been able to step in and convince the patient to have a few routine tests done. If the tests turned up fine and they were all making a fuss over nothing, Draco had agreed to buy the guy a pint.

“Of course it wasn’t fine and he needed immediate treatment or he’d have lost that arm,” Draco said, with a shake of his head. “Still gonna buy the bloke a pint though. Poor guy has been put through the wringer this week by his wife.”

Hermione watched him in awe and reflected on how much he had changed since that night in the Hogwarts library. He had become so patient and compassionate through his Healer training. He had a unique calming effect on patients and in turn they fully trusted him. Children adored him. He made them laugh and brought them candy and toys from a box he kept under his desk, to help them survive the boring waiting room.

The adults were a bit more wary of him, knowing his dark past. He was very aware of this fact, and strived to make sure all his hardwork to better the wizarding community overshadowed his younger years. He was able to clearly explain complicated procedures to patients, making sure they knew he took their concerns seriously. And there wasn’t a woman that came through that didn’t instantly fall in love with him when he flashed them an effortless smile and assured them everything would be fine.

The truth hit her like a two-ton lorry - she was in love with Draco! He was everything she looked for in a guy - intelligent, funny, and kind, which only enhanced his already handsome features. Yes, after all this time it turned out her perfect guy was right in front of her. Unfortunately, her perfect guy also happened to be one of her best friends.

Hermione was no stranger to friendship turning into more. It was of course what had happened with her and Ron. She also knew that should the relationship go south, getting that friendship back was near impossible. She and Ron were still on good terms with each other, but they weren’t as close as they once had been. It was understandable, but it still hurt.

That was the big reason she kept her feelings for Draco under wraps. As much as her heart pined for him, she couldn’t bear the thought of things not working out and losing him from her life completely.

* * *

It was these thoughts that consumed her as she made her way to the first patient on her afternoon rounds. She reached the door and stood looking confusedly at the holder where the boy’s chart should have been.

“I just don’t know,” she could hear a female voice saying behind the door. “Healer Granger never said anything about pain potions.”

“With all due respect ma’am, Aiden is your son, not Healer Granger’s,” a familiar masculine voice countered. “You want to have this lad back home as soon as possible, right?”

“Of course we do,” the woman replied. Hermione finally registered it as the voice of Helen, her patient’s mother.

“I guarantee this will do just that. Here’s my card. Come see me when you’re ready.”

Hermione gritted her teeth, seething in anger. The door opened and Matt Somerfield strutted out. Draco’s assessment of him had been right on the nose.

“May I ask what exactly you were doing in my patient’s room?” Hermione asked curtly, holding out her hand for Aiden’s file.

“Healer Granger, I presume?” The chemist handed over the patient file and smiled at Hermione. “I’m Matt. We haven’t had the pleasure of meeting yet.”

“Alert me when we get to the pleasurable part,” Hermione replied. “What were you doing in there?”

“Offering my pain management services to the young scamp. I’m shocked you haven’t asked me up here sooner.”

“That young scamp had his tonsils removed. The only pain management he needs is ice cream and rest.”

“Yes, but with a few extra potions we could have him feeling better tonight and have that bed freed up by tomorrow morning.”

Hermione stared at Matt, stunned by how cavalier his comment was.

“I don’t care if he is _feeling_ better. I want to be sure he is _actually_ better. It wasn’t a mistake or oversight that I didn’t request pain potions for this _child._ Now, I’d appreciate it if you stopped harassing this family and stayed out of my wing, unless I specifically ask for your presence,” Hermione said, tucking the file under her arm.

“ _Your_ wing?” Matt challenged.

“Yes, Mr. Somerfield, _my_ wing.” She stared at him, not blinking, until he backed down.

“As you wish,” the chemist finally conceded. He flashed her a smug smile and walked off down the hall. “‘Til we meet again, Miss Granger,” he called back.

Hermione let out a growl before composing herself and going into the room to apologize to her patient’s family.

After checking on Aiden and assuring his parents that he was on the best course of treatment, she wrote a note on his file so the next Healer on duty could keep an eye out for anyone else trying to sell her patient on unneeded medication.

A high pitched giggle drew her attention across the hall. The door to Tabitha’s room was slightly ajar.

“That’s not fair. You cheated!”

Hermione slowly pushed the door open and saw Draco sitting beside Tabitha’s bed. He was wiping runny, black liquid from his forehead and the little girl was laughing her head off.

Hermione wrinkled her nose as she entered the room and realized the two had been playing Gobstones.

“I hope you have an extra jacket in your locker,” Hermione commented as she opened a window. “No Mediwitch is gonna work with you smelling like rotting eggs.”

“Bah, it’s not that bad,” Draco said, waving her off and causing Tabitha to giggle harder.

Tabitha had been admitted the day before after going into anaphylactic shock. She was nine years old and severely allergic to peanuts. A family friend had sent a tin of fudge, but forgot to inform them that it contained peanut butter. Tabitha took one bite and her throat instantly closed up, sending her parents into a panic and quickly Flooing to the emergency wing of St. Mungo’s.

“My patient is supposed to be _resting_ ,” Hermione scolded, making her way to Tabitha’s other side. She gave the girl a wink before running her wand over Tabitha’s forehead. “How have you been feeling?”

“Great!” Tabitha chirped. She rolled a Gobstone into another and Draco’s face was again squirted with the nasty concoction. Hermione couldn’t help but laugh with her this time.

“Well, your fever has stayed down,” Hermione said, swishing out the green light on her wand tip. She inspected Tabitha’s shoulders and arms, gave a satisfied nod, then had a listen to her breathing. “Your hives haven’t come back and your lungs sound crystal clear. I would say you should be good to go home tomorrow morning.”

Tabitha let out a celebratory cheer and high fived Draco.

“I’ll let your parents know and start working on those discharge parchments,” Hermione said with a smile.

“That’s awesome news, Tabby,” Draco said, ruffling the girl’s hair. “Don’t take this personally, but I hope I don’t see you in here again. Stay away from the dodgy fudge,” he warned.

“Promise,” Tabitha said, tracing an X across her chest.

Draco nodded and jumped to his feet. “If you’ll excuse me, ladies, I have a few grumpy Medi Witches to go annoy with my stench.” He started for the door and then turned back. “Oh, Granger. I heard you giving pretty boy a bollocking out there. Let me know if there’ll be a round two. I’ll bring popcorn next time.”

And with that, he was gone, leaving two enamoured girls in his wake.

“I really like him,” Tabitha sighed, leaning back on her pillow.

“Yeah, me too,” Hermione whispered.

 

* * *

 

 

Hermione sat at her desk, reading over patients’ notes from the previous evening. She caught the scent of hazelnut in the air and it pulled her attention away from the parchments to her office door. Draco was leaning against the frame, a smirk on his face and a cup of coffee in each hand.

“I was wondering how long it would take you to notice,” he said, handing her one of the steaming cups.

“Ooh, thank you,” Hermione breathed, holding the cup close and inhaling the invigorating scent. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Only a few minutes,” Draco answered, taking a sip of his own coffee, which she knew contained vanilla creamer and way too much sugar. “You were lost in reading, per usual.”

“Just catching up on notes from the graveyard shift. Did you need something?”

Draco clutched his chest in mock outrage. “I’m hurt! Do I need a reason to bring my best friend coffee?”

Hermione chuckled and shook her head. “You’re usually staked out at the Mediwitch station, raiding all the Friday treats as they roll in.”

“Guilty as charged,” Draco admitted. He pulled two cranberry scones from his pocket and handed her one, along with a folded piece of parchment.

“What’s this?” she asked, breaking off a bit of the pastry and popping it in her mouth.

“Date details.”

“Oh,” Hermione said. She unfolded the parchment and frowned.

“What’s wrong?”

“I totally forgot about the date and agreed to cover Samantha’s shift tomorrow night.”

“Are you serious?!” Draco cried. “You promised you’d keep this weekend free. One weekend! That’s all I asked and you-”

He stopped short when he saw Hermione grinning up at him.

“And you are messing with me,” he finished.

“See, I do have a sense of humor,” Hermione laughed. She scanned the parchment with the time and location of the blind date. “He really wants to go to _Vite_?”

“I thought you liked that restaurant?”

“I do. It’s one of my favorites. But it’s quite fancy for a first date, and virtually impossible to get a reservation on such short notice. When Ron took me there for our second anniversary, he had to make his reservation five months in advance.”

Draco got a smug grin on his face. “Your date has some pull with the owner, so it was no problem. Once he knew that it was your favorite place, he insisted on it. There was no changing his mind.”

“Who is this mystery man?” Hermione asked, tucking the parchment into her purse. “He sounds a bit stubborn.”

“You’ll find out tomorrow evening. You don’t have to always know everything, do you? Let there be a little surprise in your life!”

“I prefer to be prepared.”

Draco groaned and hopped up on the corner of her desk, toppling over a tower of patient files. He grinned when she let out her own frustrated groan.

“Hermione, you’re going on a date, not a camping excursion. The only thing you need to do is throw on something nice and show up. You’re not sewn into that Healer coat, are you?”

Hermione scowled and started reorganizing her files around Draco. “No, and that’s not all I have to do. I need to think up conversation topics and set up a back-up plan for when this guy takes one look at me and runs out the door.” She straightened her stack of files and stood up, her eyes locking with the sparkling silver of Draco’s. She expected to find him laughing at her, but was instead met with a soft, endearing look that turned her legs to jelly.

“Is that what you think is going to happen?” he asked, gently.

“It could happen,” Hermione meekly answered.

Draco slid off the desk, taking her hand and giving it a squeeze. “You keep holding on to your heart like it’s some sort of secret. You have a lot to offer, Hermione, if you would just give yourself a chance and open up.”

Hermione couldn’t find her voice, so she just nodded. It seemed to satisfy Draco and he let go of her hand. As he turned to leave, she covered it with her other hand, hoping to hold onto his touch just a little longer.

“I’m looking forward to finding out how tomorrow evening goes,” Draco said, smiling as he closed her office door.

 

* * *

 

 

“I’m so glad you asked me to come shopping with you,” Luna said, casually sifting through dresses. “I feel like it’s been forever since I saw you last.”

“I’m sorry. Work has been so crazy lately,” Hermione explained, feeling guilty for ignoring her friends and using such a lame excuse.

It wasn’t an untrue excuse; work had been crazy and if she wasn’t home, she was at the hospital. Of course this was her own doing, as Draco constantly pointed out. She loved her career, but had unfortunately come to be known as the go-to Healer when her co-workers needed to take a vacation day on short notice. This frustrated her friends to no end. During the week leading up to Harry and Ginny’s wedding, Harry had reminded her twice a day to make sure she had taken the _full_ day off.

“So, who is this date with tonight?” Luna asked as she pulled a mustard yellow dress off the rack and held it up to show Hermione. Hermione vigorously shook her head ‘no’. Luna shrugged and put it back.

“I don’t know. Draco won’t tell me anything about the date, except where I should meet the guy. I’m really nervous about it.” She admitted, adding a white sundress to her try-on pile.

“Ooh, a blind date!” Luna chirped, adding a strapless red number to the pile. “That’s how I met Rolf and look where that led.”

“I don’t think you and Rolf are the norm, though, Lu,” Hermione chuckled.

Luna and her long-time boyfriend had just gotten engaged. They had been set up by one of the Quibbler’s journalists. After interviewing the famous Magizoologist, Newt Scamander, he mentioned how fond Luna was of magical creatures and Newt suggested she meet his grandson, Rolf. Luna immediately agreed and the two had been inseparable ever since, traveling the world and studying rare animals. They were currently planning their wedding, which would be held at a well renowned magical animal sanctuary in South Africa.

“Maybe not,” Luna agreed idly. “Still, it’s nice that you’re getting out for an evening. It’s been quite some time since you last had a date.”

“Yes, Draco reminded me,” Hermione muttered, shoving a barely there black dress back onto the rack.

“How come you two never got together?” Luna asked. She stared at Hermione, her big blue eyes full of curiosity. “I would have thought that after you and Ronald broke up that you and Draco would have started dating at some point.”

“We’re just friends,” Hermione answered, frowning slightly.

“You want to be more, though, don’t you?”

Hermione sighed. Luna was never one to beat around the bush. If you ever wanted an honest answer to something, you asked Luna Lovegood. She chewed on her lower lip, thinking about how best to phrase her answer.

“I can’t say the idea hasn’t crossed my mind,” Hermione finally said. “But it’s for the best that nothing ever happened. Besides, he’s never showed any signs that he thought of me that way.” She sighed and looked at the pile of dresses they had accumulated for her to try on. “I think we’ve got a good variety here. I’m going to go try them on.”

Luna followed Hermione to the fitting rooms and waited while Hermione pulled the curtain closed and started to disrobe. By the time she got to the last dress, she had set aside three that she thought were acceptable for a first date - the white sundress, edged with turquoise lace, a floor length, black gown with capped sleeves, and a dark green dress that had a halter neck and a flared skirt that stopped just below her knees. Each one got Luna’s seal of approval.

“Lu, when did you slip this one in?” Hermione called, holding up a shiny, gold, sleeveless dress.

“Oh, the gold one? I thought that one would accentuate your eyes and skin tone. Let me see!”

She quirked her lips and gave the dress a skeptical look. She knew she would never buy it, but it couldn’t hurt to humor her friend.

“For Godric’s sake, Luna!” Hermione laughed, pulling the zip up the side. “This doesn’t leave much to the imagination.”

“That’s the point! Come out!” Luna demanded, giving the curtain a shake.

Hermione pulled the curtain back and slowly turned around in front of the full length mirror. The dress was skin tight, low cut, and only reached down to mid-thigh.

“I’m practically spilling out of this,” she giggled, covering her breasts with her hands. “But I can’t pull it up any further or everyone would see my fanny!”

At the mention of her fanny, Luna dissolved into a fit of uncontrollable giggling.

“The fabric is surprisingly comfortable, though,” Hermione commented, running her hands down her sides. “I thought it would be a bit rough, but it’s actually quite supple.” She swished her hips and made Luna laugh more.

Their laughter was quelled by a sudden beeping and a blinking red light from Hermione’s wrist.

“What’s that?” Luna asked with a hiccup.

“Shit,” Hermione hissed. “It’s my alert bracelet. There’s an emergency at St. Mungo’s.” She pulled off the tag of the dress and thrust it, and her purse, into Luna’s arms. “No time to change. Pay for this dress and pick your favorite from our keep pile. Sorry and thank you!”

She grabbed her wand and disapparated before Luna could respond. A second later she was in the prep room of the A&E wing of the hospital. The gold dress wasn’t the most practical outfit for the moment, but she wasn’t often paged for emergencies, so she didn’t want to waste time changing into her normal clothes. She grabbed a spare jacket, threw on a surgical mask, and quickly scrubbed up.

As she rushed out to the main receiving area, a dozen other healers and Mediwizards and witches were running around, shouting orders and gathering supplies, while four stretchers were floated through.

“Granger!”

Hermione spotted Draco standing beside a panicking young boy, who looked to be about ten years old. She dashed to his side and forced herself not to recoil at the sight before her. Blood never freaked her out, but this child was soaked in his own blood and his screams were ear piercing and chilling.

“What the hell are you wearing?” Draco cried, waving his wand over the wounds.

“Later. What’s going on?”

“Werewolf attack,” he snapped. He was obviously frustrated and Hermione could see why. The boy’s wounds would close up and then immediately open again, oozing more blood.

“In the middle of the day? It’s not even a full moon!” Hermione looked around in disbelief. She quickly deduced that the victims were all siblings. There was a hysterical man and woman, darting between kids, begging the healers for information.

“Now’s not the time, Hermione!” Draco yelled. “Why won’t he stop bleeding?!”

Ignoring Draco’s irritation, Hermione stopped a passing Mediwitch.

“I need you to go prepare staunching paste. The quicker, the better.”

The Mediwitch nodded and hurried off. Hermione rejoined Draco.

“We need to put him under and figure out why the bites won’t close,” Hermione instructed. She summoned bottles of combination of a Sleeping Draught and Blood-Replenishing Potion.

At the mention of being put into an induced sleep, the boy started panicking more and flailing about.

“No, no sleep!” He screamed. “I don’t want to die!” His arms flew up and one of his fists clocked Draco in the eye.

“Son of a snitch!” Draco cried, clutching his hands to his right eye. Hermione admired that, even in times of pressure and chaos, he was still able to keep his language age appropriate. “Restrain him, Hermione.”

Hermione shook her head. She never like to use restraints on children unless absolutely necessary. Placing a hand on the boy’s shoulder, she asked, “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

“B-B-Ben,” he replied.

“Okay, Ben. I promise you, you are not going to die. But Healer Malfoy and I need to find out why these bites won’t heal and we’ll be able to do that much quicker if your body is calm,” Hermione explained. “This potion will relax you and allow us to see what we’re working with.” She smoothed his long fringe back from his sweaty forehead. His body was still shaking, but his limbs had stilled as Hermione spoke to him. “Can you trust me?”

Ben’s piercing blue eyes were full of worry, but he gave her a nod and Hermione helped guide the potion bottle to his lips. He had barely swallowed the last drop when his eyelids drooped and his body went limp.

“Perfect.” Hermione slashed her wand across the boy’s body, in the shape of a cross, and his shirt split open, revealing puncture wounds on his right shoulder. “Draco, siphon away the blood so I can get a clear look.”

Draco aimed his wand and the bright red blood was sucked away. Hermione bent over Ben’s body and her breath caught in her throat. The bite marks were tinged with a sickly green color.

“I’ve never seen anything like this,” Draco said, continuing to siphon of the fresh blood.

“I have,” Hermione whispered, her memory flashing back to fifth year. She looked up and pointed to a nearby Mediwizard. “Josh, I need to you to get the parents out of here. Be polite, but firm. Simone!” She called out to a Mediwitch. “I need you to get me four doses of the Viperae Antidote.”

Simone nodded and rushed off just as the first medi-witch returned with a metal bowl full of a foul smelling, purple paste.

“Thank you.” Hermione scooped some of the paste from the bowl and spread it over Ben’s bites. “Take the rest and dole it out between the other three,” she instructed.

“Hermione, this is a werewolf bite, not a snake bite. Why did you send Simone off for some rare venom antidote?” Draco asked. He started wrapping a bandages over the paste.

“Arthur Weasley had these same marks after he was bitten by Voldemort’s snake,” Hermione explained. Draco paled at the mention of the Dark Lord’s name, but Hermione pressed one. “Whoever this werewolf was had his teeth coated in a very toxic venom, and he wasn’t biting with the intent to turn. We need to make sure the others are asleep. If they’re not moving it’ll slow the venom.”

Draco nodded and rushed off to administer Sleeping Draughts to the other kids. Hermione ran her wand over Ben’s forehead and the tip glowed yellow, indicating a low grade fever. It was an expected effect of the venom. They just had to make sure it didn’t rise much higher.

“The others are under,” Draco announced, returning to her side. “What’s next?”

“Once Simone gets the antidote, it needs to be taken every four hours, for twenty-four hours.” Hermione ran her forearm across the beads of sweat forming above her brows, frantically searching for the Mediwitch. She breathed a sigh of relief when she spotted Simone hustling down the hall with a tray of bottles, filled with bright green liquid.

The next few minutes were spent administering the antidote and making sure the staunching paste and bandages were holding firm. Draco left to talk to the parents, needing to gather more information on the attack and let them know what the next steps in recovery would entail. Hermione helped move the children up to the pediatric wing and was able to set all four of them up in the same room.

“Am I alive?” a voice whispered.

Hermione looked up from filling out charts and smiled as Ben looked around and tried to sit up.

“Yes, you’re very much alive.” She moved to his bedside and checked his temperature. It was still high, but that was to be expected as his body and the antidote worked to dispel the venom.

“Am I a werewolf?” he asked, holding up his hands, trying to see if they were covered with fur.

“No, you’re not a werewolf,” Hermione answered, stifling a laugh. “It’s not a full moon so you won’t have to worry about any future transformations.” She hooked his chart to the foot of his bed. “I’m going to leave you in the very capable hands of Healer Mitchell,” she said, pointing to the Healer checking on one of Ben’s younger sister, “and I will see you bright and early Monday morning.”

In the break room, Hermione shed her coat and collapsed onto the couch. She peeked at the clock and groaned, closing her eyes. Her date started in two hours and she was already exhausted. Would it be so bad if she asked Draco to owl his friend with a rain check?

“I know what you’re thinking, and the answer is no.”

“But I’m so tired!” Hermione whined. She opened her eyes to find him standing directly over her.

“I’ll brew you a pot of coffee,” he said dismissively.

“Ugh, you’re so annoying,” Hermione moaned, sitting up. “I just want to go home and sleep for a week.” She ran her hands over her face and stood. “Did you find out what happened? I haven’t seen many werewolf bites, but those bites were a whole different horror.”

“Yeah, their father told me.” Draco abruptly turned away from her and walked across the room, to the tiny kitchenette. He grabbed a glass from the cupboard and poured himself a glass of water.

Hermione frowned. Something about the story had obviously struck a nerve. She knew that when he got like this, it was better not to push him for details. If she gave him time, he’d calm down and open up.

Slowly, she walked over to his side, curled her arms around his left arm, and just rested the side of her head on his shoulder. Almost instantly, the rigidness in his body started to disappear and he laid his cheek on the top of her head.

“It was revenge,” Draco whispered. He gave her arm a pat a moved to fall into a worn-out loveseat. Hermione perched on the edge, next to him. “The father reneged on a deal. He didn’t realize it was a deal involving a pretty notorious black market merchant, that doesn’t let people back out of agreements easily.”

“So, he sent a werewolf after him?” Hermione said, horrified at the thought.

“No. He sent the werewolf after the man’s child,” Draco said through gritted teeth.  Closing his eyes, he ran his hands through his hair and let out a pained growl. “There are actually five kids and it seems that he was instructed to go after the youngest girl, who’s two. They were all outside playing when the attack happened. The older ones threw her out of the way and tried to take him on. By the time the father got out and was able to Stupefy the werewolf, the older siblings had all gotten bit.”

He jumped up and started pacing. Hermione knew the thoughts his mind was racing toward.

“When are people going to stop using children as leverage? They play no part in their parents’ shit and are not tools for manipulation and control!” Draco yelled.

Hermione grabbed his hand, as he paced by, and pulled him to a stop.

“Those kids are going to be fine,” Hermione said gently.

“Do _I_ look fine to you?”

“Yes.”

Draco frowned and asked, in a strained voice, “How can you say that?”

“Because you’re not your father,” she stated simply. “You learned from his mistakes, and are a better man because of it.”

“How do you know?”

“I’m the brightest witch of our age. I know everything,” she answered, grinning up at him.

Draco shook his head, but returned the smile.

“I like the dress,” Draco commented, changing the subject. His gaze roaming down her legs and back up. “An interesting choice for work.”

Hermione felt a blush flood her body.

“I got paged in the middle of dress shopping with Luna.”

“Well then, good date night choice.”

“I am _not_ wearing this one. It’s just the one that happened to be on and I didn’t have time

to change.”

“Shame. It’s a very nice dress.”

Hermione sighed. “On that note, I’m off to take a shower.”

She gave Draco a wave and apparated home.

 

* * *

 

‘I couldn’t pick just one. You look gorgeous in all of them. Have fun tonight! -L’

Hermione smiled at the note she found sitting atop the pile of dresses on her bed. Her friends really were the best in the world.

After a long, hot shower, she spread the dresses out on her bed and pondered which would be better suited for the evening. In the end, she chose the green, halter neck dress. She had a gold wrap that would complement it nicely and keep her shoulders warm in the cool, autumn air.

With the help of half a bottle of Sleekeazy’s, she was able to straighten out her curls and pull her hair back into a simple chignon. She kept her makeup minimal, opting for lip gloss instead of lipstick. She completed her outfit by slipping on a pair of gold, ballet flats.

The walk from her flat to Diagon Alley took only fifteen minutes, so Hermione opted to leave a little early instead of Apparating. Summer was desperately trying to hold on, but autumn was doing its best to take over. The leaves were losing their vibrant green color, giving way to warm reds, browns, and oranges. An early sunset left the sky streaked in beautiful pink, purple, and orange hues by the time she reached the posh restaurant.

When Hermione gave her name to the maitre’d, he smiled and led her to a secluded table in the back of the restaurant. She had arrived before her mystery date, so she asked for a glass of water while she waited.

The Italian eatery was softly lit, with instrumental music playing low in the background. She discreetly searched the room, trying to discern if her date had arrived. There was no one walking about aside from the wait staff and busboys.

Where was he? _Who_ was he?

She looked down at her watch. It was five minutes past the time he had arranged. She started fiddling with her rings and reassured herself that her worst fears weren’t coming true.

“The gold dress was nice, but I’ve always thought you look best in green.”

Hermione’s head flew up at the sound of the familiar voice. Draco was standing at the other side of the table, setting a glass of white wine in front of her.

“Draco? What are you doing here? What’s happened?” Hermione stood up and started scanning the room, looking for a strange man bolting out the door.

“Hermione--”

“I knew it! He took one look at me and did a bunk!”

“Hermione--”

“I really am going to end up an old, spinster-witch!”

“Granger!”

“What?” Hermione cried, finally turning back to Draco.

“Shut up.”

Before she could tell him off, his lips were on hers. All thoughts melted away as Draco’s hand moved up to caress her cheek.

“I’m your date,” he whispered against her lips.

“Oh,” she replied lamely, unable to form a proper sentence.

Draco laughed and reached for her seat.

“Sit down. People are starting to stare.”

Hermione sat back down and watched in amazement as he took his seat. After a minute of her being able to do nothing but stare, Draco asked, “Do you forgive me for being a little sneaky?”

She took a sip of her wine in an attempt to find her voice.

“I don’t understand. Why did you set me up with yourself? Why didn’t you just ask me out?”

“Because I knew if I did that, you’d say no, citing some tosh excuse about us being too good of friends,” Draco answered.

“I-I never thought you would see me as more than a friend,” Hermione admitted. “I had come to the conclusion that you had never looked twice at me in that way.”

“You’re right. I never did look twice.” He swirled his scotch and soda and took a slow sip, before elaborating, “I didn’t need a second look. It’s always been you, since that first night in the Hogwarts library. When everyone else shut me out, you took a chance and showed me that there might actually be something good for me in this world.”

Hermione couldn’t help but let a big, silly grin spread across her face. Never in a million years would she have anticipated this turn of events. Draco really had set her up with the perfect guy. The one right out of her dreams.

“Oh, and I thought I’d get this out of the way early. The answer is no.”

Hermione’s smile shrank slightly as she asked, “No what?”

“No way am I letting you pay for dinner tonight.”

“But--”

Draco held up his hand, stopping her protest, and shook his head.

“I’m perfectly capable--”

“Don’t care. I asked you out. I set up the date. I get to pay.”

Hermione tried to shoot him a threatening glare, but was unable to do so without smiling.

“Fine, you can pay...this time.”

Draco reached across the table and gently took her hand in his.

“This is gonna be fun,” he said with a smirk.

 

* * *

 

 

After lingering over dessert and two more glasses of wine, Draco walked with her back to her flat. He laced his fingers with hers as they took their time strolling through Diagon Alley, and then out into Muggle London.

At her doorstep, he suddenly got quiet and started shuffling his feet, like an awkward teenager. Hermione wanted to laugh at how adorable it was, but she refrained. Instead, she pulled him close and kissed him. As opposed to the quick kiss in the restaurant, this one was slow and sensual. She felt Draco’s body relax against hers as his arms encircled her waist.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” he asked, nuzzling his nose in her hair.

“Well, I picked up an afternoon shift,” she started.

Draco groaned and threw his head back in mock agony.

Hermione giggled and said, “You’re right. This is gonna be fun.” She squealed when Draco started tickling her sides. She swatted at his chest and he grabbed her hands, bringing them up to his lips.

“I’m not working, but I do have plans.”

“Go on,” he urged, kissing her knuckles one by one.

“I thought I’d start the day by waking up next to a handsome guy and taking our sweet time getting out of bed.”

“Sounds good so far.”

“Then we could shower--”

“Together?”

“Of course. We wouldn’t want to waste water, now would we?”

“No, we wouldn’t,” Draco murmured, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“And then we could go have a nice brunch and walk along the river, before coming back home and seeing where the evening takes us.”

“I like your plans. Just one question.”

“What’s that?”

“Can two people fit in your shower?” Draco asked, leaning down to pepper her neck with kisses.

“I guess we’ll find out.”

Hermione unlocked the door and Draco followed her in, tossing his coat over the back of the armchair. She watched him wander off to the bathroom and peek in.

“Oh yeah, there’s plenty of room,” he called. He sauntered back to her with a grin. When she didn’t say anything and just stared into his eyes, he asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“For what?”

“For setting me up with your ‘friend’.”

Draco kissed her forehead and hugged her tight.

“It would have been a shame if you two had never met,” he said, with smug grin.


End file.
